


Spirit

by DreamyKrew



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Married Life, One Shot, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24559348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamyKrew/pseuds/DreamyKrew
Summary: Felix sits, and thinks, and reflects on his life; sixty-five years is not enough time to spend with her.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	Spirit

**Author's Note:**

> So...I checked and I've clocked in an impressive 300 hours on FE:3H LOL.  
> Anyways, blue lions forever and Felith/Bylix is the ship I choose to die on.  
> Thank you for reading!

They had a good life, Felix mused. It was nothing short of adventurous and full of amazement. They lived a long and fulfilling life, accomplished everything they had sought out to do. But even that didn’t keep him from assuming they’d at least have ten more years together. Medicine was strong, but magic was stronger, and yet it still couldn’t slow down the aging process of a human body – vessel or not. His own wrinkled and weakened hand clutched onto Byleth’s with as much strength as he could muster, and watched as she silently gestured the doctor away with her chin.

Sixty-five years with the woman he loved and still it felt too short.

000

At seventeen years old he was as stubborn as any adolescent boy his age would be. Full of hormones, anger, and a desperate need to find his place in the world. If anyone had told him what direction his life would take, the day he entered the academy, he would have scoffed and possibly challenge them to a dual for the absurdity.

With a tongue as sharp as a knife, and an attitude just as haughty, Felix was a force to be reckoned with. He was the son and sole heir of Rodrigue Fraldarius; _The Shield of Faerghus_. He spat at the alias, despising his father for his lack of empathy. Within his heart, he mourned the loss of his brother, too prideful to admit the pain he carried within him. Knighthood was a joke; there was only power, and those too weak to wield it.

He remembered when he first met her, a quiet and callous woman who never smiled or laughed. Emotions rarely if ever crossed her face, even when teaching their class. Felix wondered if she even had a soul. He didn’t know whether to fear or admire her. Her day to day outfit was distracting to say the least, but it hardly screamed ‘mercenary.’

So one day, after class, he requested a ‘training lesson’ with her, but really he just wanted to fight. He wanted to test the waters, to see what she was truly capable of. He wasn’t disappointed.

To say he was surprised was an understatement – Byleth had him on his back before he knew it. The tip of her blade pressed against his throat, and while she looked at him as blandly as she could, there was a hint of _something else_ beneath her eyes. When she offered him her hand, he swatted it away. His ego was severely wounded, and he wanted to be left alone. He walked away with his tail shoved between his legs.

At seventeen, if anyone had told young Felix Hugo Fraladrius that he would fall hopeless and irrevocably in love with his professor, he would have likely ended the conversation with a fist in that person’s face. Student-teacher relationships were the sort of things reserved for fantasy novels and the sexual deviants. Marriage and romance were the last things on his mind. He had a path to carve out, he still needed something to fight for.

000

When they meet again, after three months of separation, they don’t hold back. Their hands search greedily for one another, wild and desperate. They forgo their tradition of crossing swords first, too crazed with lust to think of anything else. When she pulls the shirt off his back, and he rips the cape from her shoulders, their eyes lock and in that moment, everything they couldn’t say out loud spills into the open. Their mouths connect, hot and needy, tongues battling for dominance.

She scrapes his nails along his back, feeling his muscles rippling beneath her touch. His fingers trace every scar she carries – some from battles, some from him – and savors the way she bends so neatly underneath him. When he finally enters her – and none of what they’re doing is about relearning each other’s bodies or making love – he moves like there is no tomorrow, because their futures are never set in stone.

000

She was a good teacher, but an even better fighter. Somewhere along the lines of having his ass thoroughly handed back to him at every training session and pleasant tea times in the garden, he began to learn. Felix hated bullshit, and he hated liars. Byleth was neither of those things. She didn’t bullshit her way through life nor has she ever lied to him once.

He could never have guessed how far she had wormed her way into his heart. Even when she wasn’t around, he thought about her and what she would do in tough situations. No one had ever made him feel stronger, braver, or lighter. On the flip side, she made him vulnerable – he’s never experienced weakness before – it was a new feeling.

Imagine his shock when he finds out she feels the same way.

000

Felix knew he would go before Byleth, it was a given fact. _This wasn’t how it was supposed to be_ , he thought harshly. If anything, he wanted to go out with her in a blaze of glory; side by side with his wife, as she hacked away at those who lurked in the dark, with her glowing red sword, while he covered her from behind. She was his queen, his goddess, his everything. She didn’t die in his mind, she couldn’t.

It was a thought that never once crossed his mind – she would outlive him, along with their children, and they would bury his body in a sad little cemetery or burn it before scattering his ashes to the wind. Maybe he was just trying to prolong the inevitable, maybe he didn’t want to accept the truth that some things don’t last forever.

If her heart never beat then why would the doctors say such revolting terms like _frail, exhausted,_ or _withering_. As if anyone could ever describe her in such a way. Byleth was none of those things – how laughably naïve to assume such folly concepts – from the way she led her students into battle, to the way she reformed the church inside and out; she was _not_ frail, or exhausted, or withering.

But the doctors pressed on, explaining to him that all human bodies will deteriorate at some point or another. Byleth’s body was battle worn and stressed; years of fighting and brawling finally catching up to her. It was a wonder she was even able to live as long as she had, with everything she had been through.

Felix snorted, even at his age he still wanted to give lip. It made sense, all of it made sense to him, but that still didn’t quell the anger boiling away inside him. They had tried everything and anything. From the unknown regions of the east, to uncharted territory in the west – Felix had tried and looked and searched and begged. Nothing, there was nothing that could be done. 

Byleth nodded once. “Thank you, you may take your leave.” She dismissed the doctor with a wave of the hand, with the same authority she had at twenty-one, and turned to him.

“It’s very beautiful outside, it would be a shame to stay in all day.” Her eyes glance over to their long-forgotten swords in the corner of their room, sad and covered in dust.

The corners of his lips twitch, always ready to duke it out.

000

He didn’t care much for the church, or any religion for that matter. The hypocrisy of those in power always rubbed him the wrong way. So, it was always a curiosity to him as to why Byleth would even agree to take on the role as archbishop. He never knew her to be religious either; in fact, he’d never seen her pray once when they were in school together.

Rhea dug her claws so deep in Byleth it almost made his skin crawl; it was like watching a cat toy with a mouse. He never really trusted the woman, but was smart enough to keep that tidbit to himself. Felix hated the way the church used her, how they put her on a pedestal, but saw her as less than human because of her status.

When they had met again, and she had informed him of her ascension; it came as a revelation. What better way to mold a corrupt system for the greater good than from within, where everything had started. Byleth looked deep into his eyes and told him that while she didn’t agree with everything Edelgard had done, she understood her reasons. Things will never be the same, change must happen.

000

When she finally retired from her role as archbishop, it was passed down to a new generation of leaders and young voices that vowed to uphold all her values. Byleth knew everything was in good hands, and left with a peace of mind. Felix always wondered if she had regretted any of it; fifteen years was a long time to lead, and some protested her retirement altogether.

Those people were quickly silenced with the glow of her blade.

“I think I’ve done a pretty good job, I say I’ve earned my rest.” She told him.

They stood together, side by side, watching the sun set beyond the horizon of the monastery one last time. She had never really given him a straight answer, and he would probably never get one, not that it really mattered in the end. Fifteen grueling years of yearning, wanting, and craving finally leading up to this moment. It was a wonder they lasted this long, but he had no doubt about their relationship.

Still, he was shy and nervous, not knowing whether to take her hand or kiss her on the lips. Byleth always seemed to know what was brewing in his mind, because she usually made the first move. Whether it be on the battlefield or in the bedroom, she always led the way. Her fingers interlaced with his, and he squeezed them in return.

000

“Who would have thought you had it in you.” Sylvain jokes. His bright orange hair might have faded away with old age, but his sense of humor never changed. The man grins at Felix. “You got real lucky with this one.”

Felix glares at him. “Don’t you have _twelve_ grandchildren to get back to? I’m sure Ingrid could use your help right about now.”

No matter what age they were, they both seemed to always have enough energy to bicker with one another. Sylvain covers his heart dramatically with a stricken face.

“I’m hurt, I thought you’d appreciate me being here to see our old professor off.” His voice had lost its charm long ago, but he still liked to believe it held its affect. “Come on teach, you know you want me.”

Byleth never looks up, still going through old parchments letter and official documents she personally requested for. She may have been retired, but she didn’t like the idea of _not_ doing anything. When she and the children had finally moved into the empty castle Felix occupied, it was as if life had finally returned to the sad, decrepit building. There was no shortage of loud noises and broken dinner plates, but he wouldn’t have had any other way.

He hates seeing her this way, laying down rather than standing up. To him, she was always moving, always doing something on her feet. She was hardly ever stationary, even when overseeing the church. It was hard to watch her sometimes, seeing her drift in and out of sleep, as though her body was trying to make up for all the years of being awake and wired.

 _How ironic_. He thinks bitterly. She was asleep for five years when he assumed the worst, when he was at his lowest. Felix can see her resisting the urge to close her eyes, sifting through every piece of paper, like it was the most important thing in the world.

“Sylvain, do the words _peace_ and _quiet_ not ring any bells for you?” She says.

Her voice held no malice, but he still grew nervous regardless. Even at their age, she still found ways to frighten all of them. He could only chuckle and scratch the back of his head.

“I’ll leave you two love birds alone then.”

When he finally left the room, she set her paper down. “How are the kids?”

It takes him a minute, but he smirks and looks out the window. “Causing trouble, as usual. I think you were right – they really should have been more like you.”

Byleth smiles wryly. “Those fools, I almost feel bad for them, considering who their parents are.”

000

Neither of them had really considered parenthood, though the topic had been broached a few times.

His role as the Duke of House Fraldarius and hers as the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros kept them apart for long periods at a time. Months would pass by before he even had a moments chance to see her, and even then, those visits were just as short. He would never admit it, but he missed her every day he wasn’t with her.

It could have happened at any time – when they were in the library, in the training grounds, even in the privacy of the gardens. Byleth was on and off contraceptives because of how infrequent they saw each other. They also didn’t exactly care where they had their little rendezvouses, so long as they had them. The amount of times they were almost caught in the act was staggering. Not that they really gave a damn.

It would be impossible, Seteth had said to her. How could they raise children together when they each lived on opposite sides of the country? Byleth never really liked being told _no_ or that she was _incapable_ of doing anything, so after her conversation with him, she sought Felix out. It was painfully obvious that neither of them knew how to go about it.

Felix never saw himself as a husband or becoming a father, it didn’t fit in with his plans; and yet there he was, married to one of the most powerful women in all the lands, supporting her privately and publicly. In truth, he was terrified – terrified of becoming just like his own father, terrified of failing his children in every way possible.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to talk about it.” Byleth had said, returning to the paperwork littering her desk.

He shook his head, sitting opposite her. “I’m not…uncomfortable, I’m just worried.”

Her eyes lifted to him. “About what?” She asked.

Memories of his childhood flooded his mind, some happy, most unhappy. “I wouldn’t want them to think I have expectations.”

A small smile graced her lips, her hand moving diligently as she scribbled on the letter. “It’s normal for people to expect things from others. Parents expect their children to be good and kind, to help each other out. I don’t see anything wrong with expecting _certain_ things from kids.”

His hand covered his mouth, weighing his options. “Will they be like…” The question was left hanging in the air, but they both knew what he was talking about.

She chuckled softly and peeked at him through her bangs. “Like me? I hope so, could you image little versions of you running around the kingdom? We’ll be setting ourselves up for another war.”

He barked out a laugh, rocking back and forth on the heels on his chair. “You act as if that’s such a bad thing. Peace is so boring anyways, we could use the little ones to cause some mayhem.”

Byleth’s eyes are filled with mirth, but that was the extent of any serious talk they had.

Time and time again, he was reminded of the instability he and Byleth shared. As heads of their respective states, their lives were constantly on the line. When not aiding the king in political manners, he was busy governing his own territory. There was no room for children, no set place for them to call home. He could see it now; how defenseless they would be, susceptible to those who would seek to influence them.

He would never allow it – he would rather die before allowing the church or the kingdom to sink their fangs into his children’s necks. He’s seen the way Byleth had been treated, he knew what power hungry officials could do; it was exasperating, almost cruel like. Between him and her, they kept matters private, not wanting to stir up controversies surrounding their personal lives.

Then, he noticed her stomach growing a little rounder, day by day. By Horsebow Moon, five months later, they both knew she couldn’t hide it anymore. News traveled like wild fire, suddenly everyone was sticking their nose where it didn’t belong. They made it perfectly and resoundingly clear that no one outside of their immediate circle was to come anywhere near the baby. Even when nearing birth, Byleth kept the Sword of the Creator at her hip at all times, just as a precaution.

Things must have worked out well, for the most part, because four years later they had another child. The little girl was the spitting image of her father, just as arrogant and self-assuring, much to Byleth’s chagrin. 

000

At the end of the day, Felix was just a man. A simple, driven man who always had basic needs. He never asked for much, didn’t need much. He didn’t want recognition for his work, or the things he’s did in war. Rewards for his efforts were nonessential – they were nothing to him, there was nothing in this world that could ever appease him.

But when he watched Byleth sleep, watched the way her chest rose and fell with every breath she took – he wanted more. He wanted to wake up every morning next to her, to hear her call out his name, to feel her skin against his every night. There was nothing he wanted more than her, and it both thrilled and petrified him.

With all the gentleness he could ever have, he glided his finger down the curve of her hip, down the slope of her waist, and stopped at the end of her thigh. They forwent putting clothes on after sex, it would have been a waste of energy. When their want for each other was insatiable, and the need to drown within each other became too much, they didn’t want any barriers in the way.

Her nose twitched. “That tickles.”

Felix smirked and continued trailing her body anyways.

“Stop.” Byleth’s voice hardened, but he could see the corners of her lips curving up.

He leaned down towards her face, tracing every part of her with his nose, and stopped just above her ear. “No.”

She got him on his back in the blink of an eye, held his hands above his head, breasts dangling at his mouth. “You’re a nuisance, Fraldarius.”

Felix nipped at the skin above her bud and relishes in her gasp of pleasure. “I thank you, Lady Fraldarius.”

He moved her, shifted her body a little lower and then –

And then there was no room left to think.

000

Byleth coughs weakly into her hand, the other still holding onto his.

“Can I tell you something, Felix?” She asks him.

His head lifts immediately, cracking in odd places at the sudden movement. He squeezes her hand in reassurance. “Anything.” He doesn’t recognize how shallow his breathing as become.

She looks at him fondly, as if seeing him for the first time. “I don’t think… I’ve ever really liked tea.”

Felix quirks his head. “Then why’d you drink it so much?”

“I wanted to impress you.” She croaks.

They both laugh, and hers turn into hoarse coughing. They can’t resist joking, even when her time is near. He can see it too; her spirit is restless – agitated. It’s been kept in a slow and decaying shell for too long, it needs freedom. Who is he to hold it back? Their children will only have only just gotten the news; their mother on her death bed at last. The oldest was on a diplomatic mission in Almyra, while the youngest had set off to ease growing tensions in Albinea.

It was unlikely they’d return in time.

Felix feels the stinging of tears in his eyes, blinking harshly and leaning forward on the bed, shielding himself from her gaze. There is tension in his jaw as he clenches his teeth, unable to cope with the reality of it all.

“Please don’t do anything…stupid, while I’m gone.” Her eyes have grown distant, the smile on her face content.

His bottom lip quivers. “I-I can’t make any promises.” He brings her hand to his face and leans into her touch when she cups his cheek. “Damn it Byleth – I can’t – you can’t leave me here like this.” All rational thoughts aside, everything inside him crumbles to pieces.

“I won’t leave you…not really…” Her voices trails off, a sigh escaping her lips.

Byleth’s hand is colder, the warmth leaving her body. His hands tighten around her wrist, keeping her hand in place, trying to memorize the feel of her one last time. A lump forms in his throat, struggling to say anything and everything. Her breathing has become quieter now, and he watches the slow rise and fall of her chest, one beat missing the other.

They're at the monastery again; she’s stripped down to only a chest binding and tight leggings, while he’s forgone his normal school uniform. She’s showing him a new move and he’s never been happier. They dance around one another, never really letting up. He’s never smiled so much before – and feels the same way when they’re both twenty-five, thirty-five, forty-five – but he can’t find a reason not to.

“Not without you, p-please Byleth.” He stutters, his voice so foreign to his own ears. Felix presses his forehead to her wedding ring, closing his eyes in a silent prayer.

He’s shaking, an uncontrollable sob threatening to burst out of him. Her thumb rubs his fingers, and it is both welcomed and lifeless.

“Felix…my Felix…”

And he sees her once more, a warrior not of this world. She rips through the sky in a glorious haze of light and destruction. She’s moving faster than the wind can take her, farther than her legs can go. He feels her pushing him, prodding at every nerve, forcing himself out. He’s at his strongest when he’s with her, and weakest without. The tears spill anyways, and he doesn’t know how to do this anymore.

Her words float on her final breath, “…I’ll be right here…waiting for you.”


End file.
